Vignette by the shore
by Little-Firestar84
Summary: Birthday gift for Petitj, inspired by her own art. "She could stay for a little longer in that bubble of perfect happiness, without thinking about the future, the past or her job. The three of them were enough. For now."


A month or so ago I told PetitJ that I would have given her a story as a gift, with the promise of doing so based on an image of hers of her choosing; I kept my promise, taking inspiration from both the pieces called "The Mentalist: A Family", which I adapted as cover, and "The Mentalist: with you". It's short, but I hope she- and you all- will appreciate it anyway. So... happy birthday, my sweet fellow mentalistas!

* * *

Sitting on the shore hugging her knees, Teresa sighed, her eyes semi-open as she took in the scene unfolding right before her; six months before, she would have never guessed that her life would have turned up that way, but then again, just three months before that she had been on a plane on her way to Washington, ready to settle down with a man she wasn't in love with.

"Well, well, well… look here, Adele, if that's not your mummy, thinking so much and so loudly that she is giving your daddy an headache…"

Lisbon laughed hearing Jane talking like that with their little girl, and she stood up, and joined them, hugging the two of them at the same time; she gave the baby girl a kiss on her forehead, her hand messing with the few dark curls, and then she proceed the same with daddy dearest, going for his lips, and opting for a sweet, and yet languid exploration of his mouth. When they parted, he looked at her grinning, his perfect eyebrow lifted to his hairline.

"Not that I don't appreciate that, but don't you think it's a bit too soon for trying to get into your man's pants?" he said, laughing, and she playfully slapped him on the shoulder, her eyes low and her face as red as a tomato. Apparently, few thing were meant to stay the same, and Jane, even if they had been in a relationship together for a little less than a year, was still incorrigible. Sometimes she wondered how she had gotten where she was, but if she had to be honest, she would have never changed a thing, not even Marcus. Yes, she hadn't been in love with him, but she had cared about him. Besides, if not for his presence in her life, there was a good chance that Jane would have never manned up enough to open up to her and confess the truth about his feelings.

"I still don't know what you are thinking about, you know?" He told her, his voice low and serious as he nuzzled her skin, begging for another kiss, of any kind. He could have never have enough of her, was it just her presence or her touch, a kiss or an hand on his forearm or his back, showing him she was there, with and for him. Sometimes it was so much it felt almost overwhelming, because as much as Teresa said it was the contrary, he felt that she, what they had, was bigger than life itself; the first night they had been together, at the Blue Bird Inn, as soon as he had been released from detention, his foot still hurting, he had made love to her, and he was pretty sure that, while they were joined, he had had an out-of-body experience, so deep and emotional and… huge it had been, never mind he had never believed about that sort of thing, it was just like Teresa to prove him wrong.

That night, he had also cried while they were hugging and kissing, after the fact, for all the time they had lost and for all the things that had kept them apart for far too long, themselves included.

That night, they had also produced their little treasure, Adele; he adored her, he thought, looking at the two women in his arms, it was the most precious thing he had, alongside Teresa, and he couldn't believe she had thought he didn't want that, that he wasn't ready. That first night had been all about lust and desire, leaving no room to rational thought, and in their hurry to get to skin-to-skin contact after having desired each other for so long, they had completely forgotten about playing it safe. But Teresa had dismissed it afterward, thinking that at her age one time couldn't do the trick, and Jane hadn't thought at all, so when she had started to show the signs of impeding motherhood she had done her best to try to blame old fish and a semi-empty fridge for her illness.

And then, Jane had pushed her to go and get some tests done, and she had never been that afraid as when, one evening, she had seen him waiting on "their" bed, expecting some news. He knew she was scared he wasn't ready for fatherhood, not so soon after having gotten together, but even before she could even show the pregnancy test her doctor had insisted she took, he took her in his arms and kissed her savagely, his hands possessive and yet protective and careful on her belly.

"Teresa?" he asked, looking at her, his eyebrows still lifted; she lifted her eyes, blushing, a bit ashamed that he had to call her name aloud to wake her up from her reverie.

She simply shook her head, deciding that it wasn't the time, yet, to tell him that she did want to enlarge the family furthermore, and that she hoped for a boy just like Jane, all blue-greenish eyes and rebel blonde curls. For now, she simply smiled, and as she buried her face in her soon-to-be husband's shirt, her hand in her daughter's hair, she decided that she could stay for a little longer in that bubble of perfect happiness, without thinking about the future, the past or her job. The three of them were enough. For now.


End file.
